Cercando La grande bellezza Page #2

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By the way,

I spoke to the theatre people.

They'll give you three nights

but you pay for the lights.

Who cares about that!

Jep, this is great news.

It's really great news.

Thank you!

Are you still up?

It's time to go to bed.

That's Viola Bartoli,

Bartoli's widow.

The guy who was killed,

the actual Bartoli.

Viola has a 50 metre yacht

that belonged to Himmler, the Nazi.

You know what I call Viola?

- No, what?

- "To-good-to-poo".

- I don't understand.

- Because she's pernickety.

Usually pernickety people don't poo.

When I introduced Trumeau

to my family, my father said:

"Miss, before marrying my son,

have you ever seen him poo?"

- How gross!

- It's not as bad as you think.

Actually, my wife and I are the only

couple in Italy who are in love.

Orietta, watch out for Lello.

Yes, I know.

He's the world's greatest salesman,

he cons everyone.

In no time he'll get you to spend

every penny

on whatever he's selling.

You always flatter me.

Just because I express myself well

doesn't mean I'm always working!

- What do you do?

- I sell toys.

Not just in a shop,

he's a wholesaler on a global scale,

he even sells to the Chinese!

What about him?

Don't you know him? Sebastiano Paf,

perhaps Italy's greatest poet.

He wrote:
"Up with life,

down with reminiscence."

He's on the Dukan Diet,

so Dadina won't leave him.

Is he with her?

- He is, but she...

- Like at high school.

Why doesn't he ever talk?

Because he listens.

- Stop sniffing up with your nose?

- Bugger off.

Jep's found a theatre for me.

Do you want the lead role?

I'm no longer an actress,

I'm a writer now.

Maybe...

Maybe I'll direct a film.

- Viola, darling!

- Help me, I'm worried about my son.

- What can I do?

- Why don't you talk to him?

You always say you're good

with strangers...

That's the problem, I'm too good.

- Is he seeing a therapist?

- Yes, but he wants to stop going.

Take him to a psychiatrist, they're

pragmatic:
Ativan, Prozac and so on.

That stuff makes him feel worse.

Relax, he's always been odd,

he is what he is.

By the way, have you tried

this rascal's endive quiche?

It's the first time she's made it

and it's better than my mom's,

please, you must try some!

You changed your hair colour.

I feel Pirandello-esque lately...

- Great jazz, no?

- Not really.

The Ethiopian jazz scene is the only

interesting one today.

I'm from Milan, to be honest...

I find Romans...

unbearable!

The best people in Rome

are the tourists.

Take Italy...

What are we famous for overseas?

Fashion and pizza.

A country of weavers and grocers.

How can someone who sells toys,

bringing joy to the world,

be such a pessimist

and a defeatist? You're dark.

- Dark?

- Yes.

I heard Gisella Montanelli

went to loans sharks

to pay her hairdressing debts.

Jep says I'm dark!

Gisella's really sunk that low?

Rome is the only city in the world

where Marxism has truly existed.

You can't excel over others

for more than a week,

you're immediately brought back

to mediocrity.

Rome is pure collectivism.

Pure collectivism.

Stefania, what utter nonsense!

Do you know that Flaubert wanted

to write a book about nothing?

If he'd met you, we'd have had

a great book, what a shame!

You're a misogynist.

It's not all about you, I'm not

a misogynist, I'm a misanthropist.

When hate's involved,

one must aim high.

You're a dark man.

I'm a transparent person,

without a doubt!

Lello!

Aren't you stopping tonight?

Mom!

When I see you I blush!

Andrea...

- You're crazy.

- No, mom, I'm not crazy!

I've got problems.

"As the light flashed,

love sat down in the corner.

Shy and distracted as it was.

This is why

we could tolerate life no longer."

Gosh,

no one's quoted me for years!

I read your book as a teenager,

I've never forgotten the end.

Stop right there, you're stroking

my ego in a dangerous way.

You must've been deeply in love

when you wrote it.

Moravia made the same comment,

more or less.

Even though he worded it

a bit better.

I once saw Piazza Navona

covered in snow.

Really? What was it like?

White!

When I come to Rome I live there.

Deep in the outskirts...

What job you do?

Me? I'm rich.

Great job.

You didn't enjoy it.

I know I'm not very good.

Why do you say that?

Plus it's so sad being good,

you risk becoming deft.

It didn't seem like you cared much.

You're very beautiful, Orietta,

very, very, very beautiful.

I take photos, you know.

Of myself.

At all times of the day,

to get to know myself.

- With the self-timer,

with my phone... - Interesting.

My Facebook friends say

I take great photos.

I bet there are some of you naked...

- A few.

- I knew it!

Do you want to see them?

- Of course.

- I'll get my computer.

The most important thing I discovered

a few days after turning 65

is that I can't waste any more time

doing things I don't want to do.

When I came to Rome,

at the age of 26,

I fell pretty swiftly,

almost without realizing it,

into what might be defined

as the whirlpool of the high life.

But I didn't just want to live

the high life.

Sacconi should be in charge.

Antonini's a f***ing pain

in the ass!

I wanted to be

the king of the high life.

And I succeeded.

I didn't just want

to go to parties.

I wanted to have

the power to make them a failure.

Gambardella?

Sorry for showing up like this,

without warning...

I'm Alfredo Marti.

Nice to meet you, I'm Jep,

but my house is this one.

I don't want to bother you.

How can I help you?

I'm Elisa De Santis' husband.

Did you have children?

No.

I couldn't.

But I could.

I could.

I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

She could too.

Elisa died.

Yesterday.

Alfredo, if you need anything,

you know where I live.

Don't leave me alone, please.

Don't leave me.

We were married for 35 years...

but Elisa always loved you.

What are you saying?

Elisa and I went out together

when we were kids.

She left me, I think,

it was so long ago I don't remember.

Yes, she left you.

On September 8th, 1970.

Exactly...

You're distraught now,

that's normal.

I'm not distraught.

Elisa only ever loved one man.

- You.

- How can you say that?

I never saw Elisa again,

you were together for a lifetime!

I found a diary of hers,

with a lock.

And I broke the lock off.

I write for a living, believe me...

when you write, you give life

to fantasies, imagination, lies...

I was only a good companion.

That's all she wrote about me.

35 years together...

and I'm mentioned in two lines

as a good companion.

Here, Alfredo.

What'll you do now?

What I've always done.

I'll live in adoration of her.

What's he doing?

Stop!

Jep!

Well done!

He made it!

- Have you seen my daughter?

- Your daughter? No.

Francesca!

Who are you?

Who am I?

- I am...

- No, you're nobody.

Nobody?

But I...

Francesca, where on earth are you?

I've been looking for you

for over an hour!

- Are you sad, sir?

- No.

Sir is strange.

I don't like that,

I prefer you to be sad.

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